Eternal Case of Blue
by Fairady
Summary: In which Wade finds out that, "There's no such thing as a bad one" is false! Wilson x Bradley


Warnings: Wade and slash. Which do you consider the better warning?

Disclaimer: I don't own or make money off of these characters. And I'm ok with that.

Notes: Written for a comment_fic request. I missed it by several thousand miles though. Wade's fault. Also, I'm not happy with how un-chatty he is here, and I don't think I came through with the reason why clearly enough. Wade's fault again. It's easy blaming him for everything.

Eternal Case of Blue  
by Fairady

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Someone once told him that life was too short. Which was complete bullshit. Wade can't remember who said it to him or why or anything really. He gets the faint impression of a bar whenever he thinks about it. And beer too. Lots and lots of beer.

He thinks he might've been in Germany even though all he does remember is waking up the next day in Amsterdam wearing someone else's clothes. Had to be someone else's clothes because he wouldn't be caught dead buying himself golfing clothes. Nope. Not even if he were so drunk he couldn't remember why he'd paid for those hookers and the goat.

It'd been an evil goat too, it'd eaten his lucky pair of underoos!

Maybe the clothes belonged to the guy who told him life was short. There'd been blood on them, and he could never quite shake the faint memory of a bus and the autobahn. Messy way to go, nothing left but a smear and little chunks of meaty stuff. He'd tossed more than a few people into it --sober-- to know.

Who said it didn't really matter though. The crap about life being short was just something to make people feel better at funerals. As far as Wade was concerned it wasn't short at all, life was way too long.

Especially other people's lives. The really annoying people that everyone just wanted to see die in horribly painful and gruesome ways. It always seemed like the more annoying a guy was the longer his life got. It was like the secret to immortality or something. Annoy and/or piss off enough people and you'd live forever. Well, as long as you could dodge the bullets and block the knives. As long as a guy could avoid unnatural causes of death --and some arguably natural ones-- he'd live forever. Which was totally cool but had to suck sometimes.

Speaking of things that were sucking- Or _not_ sucking if he was going to be brutally honest and forsake his happy little world of denial where things _did_ suck. No. _People_, he meant people.

It'd be totally awesome if things could suck too though. He'd never have to get out of bed to get a blowjob again. Unless the mattress really sucked at them. Then he'd have to cheat on it with the dresser. It was a total slut.

A tongue ran up his cock, stopping just under the head. Which normally was a good thing except it didn't just stop. It disappeared! Again. So, it's back to narrating how reality wasn't sucking as good as it should.

Wade looked down, carefully keeping his hands laced behind his head because Bradley got skittish otherwise, and he _really_ didn't feel like talking him back down if he tried to run for it again, "You know you can put it in your mouth, right? It won't bite, I swear. Maybe it'll spit a little but that's all part of the fun!"

Bradley's scowl deepened, and he licked again. The same exact place, he'd been teasing the hell out of Wade before but now it was starting to annoy him. Bradley _still_ didn't look Wade in the face as he muttered, "Shut up, man."

Virgins were so overrated.

Bradley was going to be permanently red-faced after this. Which would be funnier if Wade wasn't currently sporting the blue balls from hell. He really would like to see how far he could make it go, but he had a time limit here. And the clock up on the wall was ticking down. Why had he agreed to a time limit anyway?

The bar, of course. Or _a_ bar. Whatever place looked open and willing to serve a squad of rough looking grunts made up of people like Vicky. Who was so going to be paying Wade's tab as soon as he won the damn bet. And he was planning on getting completely shitfaced after this. So drunk that the Germany to Amsterdam trip would be nothing! So drunk he'd forget this whole night!

Yeah, just as soon as Bradley got over his little swinging-only-one-way quirk. More over it than he already was, which wasn't nearly enough even after Wade had been polite enough to show him how it was done. He'd even swallowed! Not that he was getting any gratitude at all for it. But was _he_ complaining? No!

Miss Manners would be so proud of him.

Bradley wrapped two fingers around the base of his cock and licked. Again. It was another step up. A teeny-tiny baby step.

"Jesus," Wade let his head fall back and stared back up at the ceiling. Bradley giving a blowjob and life. Two things that were way too fucking long as far a Wade was concerned.

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End file.
